Everlasting
by madi-solo
Summary: She had come here to bury the sabers, but she would not—could not—bury Ben Solo. It was the worst of cruelties. The ultimate betrayal. The Force had turned its face from the last Skywalker when he had needed it most. "Give him back," Rey growls through gritted teeth. "Give him back to me. I won't leave until you do."


"I'm Rey. Rey Skywalker," she declares with an all-too-convincing smile.

But as the woman's back turns and Rey is left to watch the binary sunset with only BB-8 at her side, crushing emptiness wells up from the depths of her being and threatens to consume her with complete and utter despair. Tatooine's suns, one blinding white and the other blood red, rise and fall each day together. Perfectly balanced. Inseparable for all eternity. A _dyad_.

A lump burns in her throat, and tears scald her eyes. "Where are you?" she whispers, her voice cracking with desperate longing. "Why can't I feel you?"

BB-8 beeps with concern, but Rey hardly hears him. Her gaze searches the horizon, straining until pain pounds with heavy fists against the confines of her skull. "Come back," she pleads, her knees sinking into the sand. "Come back."

The desert is silent. She receives no reply. Even the ghosts are gone, and here she is, alone once more.

Rey's eyes narrow, and she glares at the fiery suns. He hadn't appeared to her elsewhere, but she had assured herself that this time he would. She had come here to bury the sabers, but she would not—c_ould not_—bury Ben Solo. The Force had brought them together, had created them with a bond so intimate, so sacred, that she could not tell where her soul ended and his began.

At least, that had been true until he had died in her arms, his fingers entwined with hers until they had faded from her grasp. For a fleeting moment, she had known what it was to love and be loved in return. At long last, she had found her belonging. But that incandescent joy had been snuffed out like a candle that was just finding its flame. Gone in an instant.

It was the worst of cruelties. The ultimate betrayal. The Force had turned its face from the last Skywalker when he had needed it most.

"Give him back," Rey growls through gritted teeth. "Give him back to me. I won't leave until you do."

It is a vow. A promise.

She rises and trudges back inside, the droid whirring sadly as he follows. This is Luke's childhood home, and she senses traces of others who once visited this simple homestead. Other Skywalkers. They have a powerful connection to this place. Perhaps she can find a way to contact him here—wherever he is.

Mere minutes ago, she had sledded down a mound of sand with a girlish grin on her face, foolishly believing that he would appear any moment and ask her what had taken her so long. Instead, Rey finds herself in a cluttered, half-buried workshop, knees hugged to her chest as she stares at the wall and wonders how many marks would soon cover its worn surface if she counted the days as she had back on Jakku. She closes her eyes and leans back against an old work station.

_"Why'd she have to die?"_

Rey's breath hitches. Her white-hot fury is suddenly swallowed by one that is black and cruel.

_"Why couldn't I save her? I know I could have!"_

That voice. She knows it. She's heard it before—on Exegol. Rey gasps and clutches at her chest.

_"I'm a Jedi. I know I'm better than this."_

It's too much. Too much pain for one heart to bear. She stands again and looks toward the entrance, realizing for the first time that BB-8 is silently watching her. The droid's expression is incapable of changing, but she can almost _feel_ his pity. She doesn't want it.

"You shouldn't have come," she mutters, brushing past him and then climbing back to the planet's arid surface.

Darkness has fallen. She shivers as a chill wind whips through her clothes. Blinking back the tears that have been fighting to escape since she watched the suns set, Rey clenches her jaw and tramps past the weathered gravestones. Her gaze is fixed on the _Falcon_. Its presence looms large and heavy, and she both loves and hates what she knows she will find inside its battered shell.

It's empty and void of life. Finn and Poe aren't sitting at the dejarik table arguing with Chewie about whether or not he is cheating. Rose isn't repairing yet another component that has malfunctioned and reminding them that they need to buy some new parts. Threepio isn't talking her ear off about one obscure topic or another.

_"I'll be back soon," _she had told Finn when he had questioned her departure, and she had meant it at the time. But now that her dreams of reuniting with Ben have been dashed once again, she can't even consider the idea of returning—not without him. That would mean accepting that he is gone.

Rey makes her way to the captain's quarters and takes off her boots, belt, and sash. Then she lets down her hair and, after a moment's hesitation, removes the small strip of leather from her right arm. Her chest tightens. She holds her breath, knowing that if she releases it, a strangled sob will escape her throat. With careful tenderness, she reaches up and traces her fingers over the scar that lingers there.

Kylo Ren had died, and Ben Solo's scar had been healed. But hers? Hers remains as a harsh reminder that she is not whole. Two hands are carved into her flesh, always reaching but never meeting.

_"You're not alone."_

Rey's lip trembles. Her rapidly blurring gaze shifts to the bed and the black long-sleeved shirt lying on its mattress. She unwraps the bindings from her forearms and then pulls her white garment over her head. The desert is cold at night, but she doesn't care. She slips easily into Ben's shirt, and it hangs loosely from her frame, much too wide and much too long.

But it _feels_ like him. It smells like him. And as Rey crawls into bed and curls into a ball, she imagines that it is his arms wrapping around her instead of her own. She breathes him in, hot tears spilling from beneath her tightly shut lids.

"Hold me," she whispers, her entire being aching and her spirit wailing. Grief claws at her insides, and she hugs herself tighter. "Be with me."

She says it over and over again, the words falling from her lips like a prayer. "Be with me… Be with me…"

* * *

"Ben."

"Sweetheart."

"It is time."

"Awaken."

Air rushes into his lungs. His eyes fly open. He's gasping and coughing, and he can't see anything but trillions of tiny pinpricks of light. His chest is tight, his mouth is dry, and he can't seem to catch his breath. Wait—

Isn't he supposed to be dead?

He tries to speak, but only a hoarse rasp emerges. He tries to move, but he can't feel his limbs. _Okay, don't panic, _he thinks. _This is fine. Everything is fine…_

"You did it, Ben."

His eyes widen, and his breath hitches. He can't tell if the voice is coming from without or from within. _Mom?_

"You did it, sweetheart."

Blue and white lights are circling around his head and darting past his eyes. Their warmth glances across his cheeks and pulse with a feeling that can only be described as love. A _mother's_ love. She forgives him. She forgives him for all of it.

He thinks that he catches a glimpse of her smile in the cosmos, that he sees the twinkle of her eyes in the stars. A lump forms in his throat, relief rising in his chest and threatening to burst from him in the form of a strangled sob. He's home. Finally, he's home.

Ben feels a hand on his shoulder but cannot turn.

"I'm so proud of you, son."

A galaxy spirals beneath his floating feet. Resplendent clouds of nebulae ripple and continually shift their shapes as he passes them by.

"Confronted and defeated fear, you have."

"What you have achieved will inspire generations to come," Luke says, appearing before him. His form is translucent and ethereal, and he gestures toward a celestial path that stretches on into the great unknown.

Ben realizes now that he is no longer floating, and he can walk again. But his legs feel stiff and strange, almost as if he has never used them before. He takes each step slowly and with caution, his uncle following close behind. An angelic being awaits him some distance ahead, and something about her is strangely familiar. She is luminous. There is warmth and kindness in her brilliant smile, and there is wisdom in her piercing gaze.

She reaches out to him. Swallowing, Ben takes her delicate hand, and she gently clasps his much larger one between both of her own.

"I always knew you would return to us," she says with a touch of pride.

"We both did."

Startled, Ben looks past her and sees a man in white and brown robes. His brow furrows, and for the first time since awakening, he is finally able to summon his voice. "Who are you?"

The man smiles at him and steps forward, his blue eyes twinkling. "I'm Anakin Skywalker—your grandfather."

Ben nearly chokes. He stares, lips parted in shock and eyes wide. "You're…?" He shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair.

"You did what I couldn't, Ben. You did what is selfless. Rey lives because of your sacrifice."

Tears blur Ben's vision, a lump burning in his throat. "You… You weren't there. I called out to you—to anyone who would listen—and none of you came. I begged. I _pleaded_ and…nothing."

Anakin frowns and bows his head. "I'm sorry, Ben. It was the will of the Force."

"The will of the—?" His hands ball into fists at his sides. "All those years, I did everything in my power to contact you, to ask you for guidance, and you were silent. I was being lied to and manipulated by the same Sith Lord who turned you into Vader!"

"I know, Ben," Anakin replies, wincing as if the words of his grandson are causing him pain, "and I am so sorry for that. I heard you. I heard every word. I was _listening_, and I wanted nothing more than to help you. But even I cannot interfere with the will of the cosmic Force."

Ben shrugs and takes a step back. "So that's it then? All of my suffering, my torment, my isolation—all of it was just the will of the Force. No reason. No purpose…"

"Everything that transpires happens for a reason," Anakin corrects. "We all have our own journeys, our own paths that we must take. Some are more treacherous than others. But everything that you've suffered, everything that you've endured, has lead you here—now. You are stronger for the burdens you have carried. You are wiser for the lessons you have learned. And most importantly, you have learned to love without fear, to have compassion for another without selfish desire. You have broken the cycle."

Ben's eyes narrow in confusion. "What cycle?"

"The cycle of death." Anakin smiles again. "The Force is not finished with you yet."

"I don't understand."

"It is the cosmic Force that weaves the tapestry of time—past, present, and future. These threads are woven together in patterns beyond our comprehension, threads of prophecy and destiny and the quest to bring balance. Long before either of you were even born, your thread was eternally bound to Rey's. You are two parts that comprise a whole. A dyad, as you call it.

"Rey's life without you is death, and you cannot become one with the Force without her at your side. Your souls were never meant to be torn in two, and you cannot go on existing as you are now. Now that you have balance within yourself, Ben, you must bring balance to the galaxy."

"Sidious is dead," Ben protests, "and with me gone, what more is there to do?"

"The Force continues to speak to those who heed its call," Luke answers, causing him to turn and face him. "Soon, the next generation will rise, and you must pass on what you have learned. You must return to the world of the living."

Ben recoils. "No. It's better this way. She's better off without me. The galaxy is better off without me."

Luke smiles knowingly. "You're wrong. The wound must be healed, and this must be accomplished by the unity of both a chosen son and a chosen daughter of the Force."

Ben averts his gaze and stares into the starlit void, unconvinced. His uncle steps closer and places a surprisingly corporeal hand on his shoulder.

"Ben, your true victory is not in your sacrifice, but in your freedom to live. Your story and Rey's will inspire generations to come. You will be a symbol of hope, a reminder that no matter how the odds seem to be stacked against you, you can still choose the light."

Finally, Ben allows himself a small smile. "Dad never did like to be told the odds."

"No," Luke chuckles. "No he didn't."

Ben swallows hard, suddenly finding that his eyes are filled with tears again. "I'm afraid," he confesses. "Afraid of facing them. Of facing everything I've done."

"That is part of the journey," Anakin says. "It won't be easy, but it is necessary for you and for the galaxy to born anew. They _need_ you, Ben."

The woman steps forward again, and Ben meets her unfaltering gaze. "Be brave and follow me."

"Padmé will lead you back to the world of the living," Anakin explains. "Do not lose sight of her, and whatever you do, don't look back. If you do, you will become stranded and lost forever in the Elsewhere, never to become one with the Force. This is your final test."

Ben takes a deep breath and nods. He is afraid, but the galaxy needs him. _Rey_ needs him, and he will not fail her.

"Will you be with me?" he asks. It is a question addressed not only to Anakin, but to everyone who forsook him when he was cast into the pit. It is a question directed at the Force itself.

"Yes," his grandfather responds with a reassuring smile.

"We all will," Luke adds.

"Come," Padmé says gently, motioning for him to follow as she turns and leaves a trail of glowing footprints in her wake.

Ben obeys, keeping his gaze fixed on her back as thousands of voices echo all around him. Some are singing and chanting ancient verses that he cannot understand. Others are whispering words of encouragement and affirmation. He's overwhelmed and bewildered by it all, and he still isn't sure why events unfolded as they did. But he decides that for now, perhaps it's better not to think about it too much. Like Anakin said, some things are too much for a mortal mind to comprehend.

"You'll understand one day," Padmé tells him, and he knows now that she is aware of his thoughts.

"All of it?"

She gives a soft, musical laugh. "Only the Force understands all. The Great Mystery is revealed to each of us in part but never the whole."

A pause passes between them.

"You're my grandmother, aren't you?"

"Yes," she answers quietly.

Ben swallows and considers a moment. "Will you tell me the story? Of how you met my grandfather?"

Another pause.

"I will."

* * *

She's sitting on the floor of the _Falcon's _main hold, the Jedi texts lying open in front of her. She's been here since early this morning, reading and meditating and seeking answers. Ben must be out there somewhere. Maybe he's trapped or in some kind of danger. Otherwise, he would have made contact with her by now.

Right?

Rey stubbornly shakes her head and refuses to allow the doubts to creep in. Ben had loved her enough to give his own life for hers. He would never abandon her—not if he had any choice in the matter.

Her thoughts drift for a moment as she remembers the moment when she had taken his face in her hands and clumsily pressed her lips to his. She'd had no clue what she was doing, but she'd decided she wasn't going to let that stop her. She had been wondering what it would be like to kiss him for longer than she cared to admit, and the way he had immediately held her close and smiled against her lips—the way he had slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss—had left her wanting more.

It hadn't been awkward or strange like she had sometimes feared. Instead, it had felt so _right_, the sensation both new and familiar somehow—as if their lips had already met a thousand times before. As if they had already loved each other in a thousand other lives.

Rey gasps, startled from her daydream by the beeping of the communications console. She jumps up and hurries over, shoving loose locks of brown hair back from her face as she bends to see where the signal is coming from.

Ajan Kloss.

She drops into the squeaky chair, slips on the headphones, and accepts the transmission. "Hello?"

"Rey!" a familiar voice exclaims with relief. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine, Rose."

"Good. I just wanted to check in cause we never heard from you yesterday. Are you on your way back to the base?"

She hesitates and sits back in her chair. "No, I'm… I have some unfinished business."

Silence.

"Rey, is this about…you know?"

She swallows hard, torn between lying and admitting the truth. "I'm not giving up on him, Rose."

"Have you felt something? In the Force?"

"No, not exactly. I…"

_I haven't felt anything. _

"I have to go," she says abruptly. "I'll make contact when I'm on my way back to Ajan Kloss."

"Okay," Rose replies as she reaches to disconnect. "Hey, Rey?"

She pauses. "Yeah?"

"I hope you find him. You deserve to be happy, and from what you've told me about him…so does he."

"Thanks, Rose."

As soon as she disconnects, Rey bursts into tears and buries her face in her hands. No one knows what he did for her—no one except Rose. Rey had done her best to hide it, had always found a secluded place in the moments when she could no longer contain her grief. But one day, Rose had followed her—or had simply happened upon her—Rey wasn't sure which.

Rose had instantly seen through her dispassionate mask and her poor semblance of control, and had somehow known with frightening certainty that she had lost someone she loved. Then she had told her all about how she had lost her sister Paige, and despite Rey having sworn to herself that she would reveal nothing about her complicated relationship with Ben Solo, she had broken down and told Rose everything. She had feared her judgment, had feared that she would tell everyone in the Resistance about her secret, but she hadn't.

Rose had shown her compassion and understanding. She hadn't recoiled with disgust or lashed out in anger when Rey had confessed her feelings for the Supreme Leader of the First Order—the same First Order that had caused the death of her sister. Instead, to Rey's great astonishment, Rose had thrown her arms around her and hugged her tightly as tears spilled down her cheeks.

Rey sniffs and smiles despite it all as she remembers her friend's unexpected gesture. She will never forget it, and it motivates her to rise and return to her studying of the ancient texts. There must be something of use in them, something that can bring Ben back to her.

She flips through the ancient pages for hours, munching distractedly on the nutrition bar that BB-8 offers her and assuring him that she hasn't lost her mind. It isn't until she revisits the pages that describe the ancient Sith planet Exegol that she suddenly stops and stares. That diagram—she's seen it somewhere before. Rey shoves the last bite into her mouth and aggressively chews as she snatches another tattered book and begins scanning its contents. _Come on. Come on. Where is it? _

Her finger stops on a diagram labeled as a "Vergence Scatter." A strange netherworld of the Force also referred to as the "World Between Worlds." She had never given it much thought before, but now as Rey starts to decipher the descriptions, her heart pounds. Her breath catches, and then she gives a shout of triumph.

"BB-8, I've done it! This could be it! Look at them! The diagrams are the same! If I'm reading this correctly, Exegol exists _inside_ the Vergence Scatter. What if Ben didn't become one with the Force? What if he's trapped in some kind of limbo?"

The droid beeps in bewilderment.

"It says here that there's another entrance to this World Between Worlds on…_Ahch-To_." Rey drops the book, her eyes going wide. "The cave!"

She springs to her feet and races to the cockpit with BB-8 following closely at her heels. "Yes, we have to go now! There's no time to waste! Of _course_ we're going to Ahch-To. I'm never going back to Exegol if I can help it."

She enters the coordinates into the _Falcon's_ navicomputer and takes a deep, steadying breath. There it is again—that spark. That hope. It will either devastate her yet again or bring her boundless joy.

She chooses to believe that it will be the latter.

* * *

There are dark voices that call and tempt him to stray from the path. They prey upon his insecurities, his doubts and his fears. They tell him that there is no hope. That it is too late for him. That this is all a dream.

But Ben does his best to shut them out. He concentrates all of his focus upon Padmé's words as she tells him of the collapse of the Old Republic. Of how she, a senator, married a Jedi in secret. Of how the Clone Wars began and how they ended with the rise of Palpatine's Galactic Empire. She tells him the tragedy of Anakin's fall to the dark side and how his descent brought about the end of her life and the separation of their twins. She tells him all of it, and Ben listens, awestruck by how familiar so much of it is.

As lightning crashes and fires rage all around him, he does not stray. Darkness engulfs them, and wraiths haunt the shadows, but he does not look. Faithfully, he follows in his grandmother's footsteps, understanding at last that it is his destiny to correct the course—to right the wrongs of the generations that came before.

Ben loses track of how much time passes, if time even exists in this place. Gradually, the voices fade, and now there is only the soft vibration that hums each time either of them takes a step. He does not ask her any questions, still overwhelmed by everything she has told him. And suddenly, he realizes that this is the only silence he has ever known. The dark lord who had hounded his sleep, turned his dreams into nightmares, and twisted his every waking thought had finally been destroyed.

Remembering that he had thought the same after he had killed Snoke, Ben wonders if it is too good to be true. Could he actually be free?

Suddenly, he sees something materializing out of the darkness ahead. A wall of glass or crystal. He thinks he glimpses a shadowy form on the other side of it.

"What is that?" he inquires.

"The way out," Padmé replies.

Ben squints as they draw closer. Is that? No, it can't be. Can it?

Padmé steps aside and turns to face him for the first time since they set out. There is a soft smile on her face, and he cautiously approaches the wall. The figure on the other side is speaking, her voice distant and muffled but instantly recognizable to him.

"Let me see them," she whispers. "My parents."

Ben's heart plummets as he remembers this moment, not as he had seen it but as Rey had tearfully described it to him one night in a fire-lit hut on Ahch-To.

"_Please._"

Her hand is pressed against the translucent surface, and he feels the crippling weight of her loneliness as if it is his own. No one answers her. She's waiting, desperate and aching.

_"There was someone on the other side," _she had told him. _"He put his hand up against mine, but then he just…vanished."_

Ben looks around for someone—anyone. But no one comes. He turns to Padmé and sees her watching Rey with great sadness, but she makes no move to comfort her. He knows all too well what it is like to cry out for help, for companionship, for _love_, and have no one answer. And by the _Force_, he will not see Rey suffer the same despair he did.

Ben steps forward, half-expecting his grandmother to try to stop him. But she doesn't. Heart pounding, he presses his hand against the cold surface and wishes more than anything that he could reach her. That he could take her in his arms and hold her close and tell her that she is not alone. That everything will be all right.

Rey drifts closer to the mirror-wall, searching and longing. But their hands cannot touch. An impassable barrier stands between them. Finally, she lowers her hand and drops to her knees, hugging herself and breaking down into miserable sobs that pierce his heart like a knife. Desperate, Ben throws both of his hands against the wall and calls her name.

"Rey! I'm here! I'm coming back for you!"

But he knows now that she can no longer see him, can no longer hear him. Eventually, she stands and walks away, and he helplessly stares until her retreating back disappears.

"I'll come back for you, sweetheart. I promise."

Ben lowers his hands and looks over, but his grandmother is gone. Startled by her absence, he turns in every direction and sees nothing but darkness, distant stars, and that blasted wall.

"Padmé?" he calls uncertainly.

"I'm here," answers her disembodied voice. "We all are."

"What was that?" he asks even though he already knows the answer.

"The past. And now you must await your future. She will come to you."

"But how will I get to her when she arrives? How will she know where to find me?"

"Trust the Force. It will guide you."

Silence surrounds him once more, and now there is nothing he can do but wait. Slowly, Ben sinks to the ground and rests his back against the mirror-wall. _It was me, _he realizes as he reflects on the story Rey had told him that night. _All this time…it was me._

* * *

The sun is just beginning to rise as she strides down the _Falcon's _ramp, the sea breeze tossing her loose brown locks and the salty air immediately filling her nostrils. She had only gotten as far as fastening the first bun at the crown of her head before deciding that she didn't care to do the rest of them. Ben's long black shirt fits her more like a tunic, and she wears it as such, one belt fastened at her waist and the other slung around her hips. Han's blaster is strapped to her thigh, and her new lightsaber hangs at her side. She still wears her weathered boots, white pants, and arm wraps, but her sash is now wrapped around her shoulders like a cowl.

It whips behind her as she climbs the ancient steps, makes her way through the Caretakers' village, and journeys down to the cave's entrance. The last time she visited Ahch-To was when she had almost—Rey gulps at the memory—killed Ben in an act of blind rage that had shamed and terrified her so completely that she had resolved to exile herself on the island just as Luke had after his failure with his nephew all those years ago. Now, here she is again—not running away from Ben but running toward him. Or so she hopes.

Instead of slipping and falling through the mossy opening as she had before, Rey dives into the pool below without hesitation. Soaked to the bone, she breaks the surface of the water and clumsily paddles over to the sharp bank. She hauls herself up over the edge and gets to her feet, her hair and clothes dripping as she stares at the mirror-wall. Its surface looks like polished obsidian in the darkness of the cave, and coming face to face with it again reminds her of all that she was forced to confront here. Her doubts and fears. Her insecurities. Her isolation.

It had been one of the worst nights of her life until Ben Solo had appeared inside her hut and told her that she was not alone.

Rey smiles faintly at the memory, gathers her courage, and approaches the wall. She dreads what it might show her, and she is cold and trembling, but she senses something. A strong, steady pulse of light in the Force. A presence she has not felt since—

"Ben?"

She shoves her palm against the smooth surface, and her surroundings blink out of existence, replaced by the gray empty world she had found herself in previously. Breathing hard, Rey glances in every direction as she strides forward.

"Ben?" she calls again, her heart pounding in her ears.

Ahead, she sees a dark shape sitting on the ground on the other side of the barrier, and at the sound of her voice, its head jerks up, and it twists to look at her. The pulse is growing stronger.

"Rey?" His voice is distant and muffled, but she has no doubt now that it's him.

"Ben," she sobs, breaking into a run.

He's on his feet in an instant, and she throws her hands against the wall. His movements mirror hers, the shadows of his hands outlining her own.

"I couldn't find you," she chokes past the lump in her throat. "I've been looking, trying to find a way—"

"And you did," he says with a touch of pride. "You found me, Rey."

"Are you…?" She can't bring herself to finish the question.

He shakes his head. "No. I was…but not anymore. It's a long story, one that I'll be able to share with you soon. But first, there's one last thing you must do."

"Tell me," she whispers, her entire being burning with desperation.

"This barrier—you have to destroy it. It's the only thing keeping me here."

Her eyes widen, and she takes a step back. "I…I don't know if I can."

"Why not?" he asks patiently.

"Because—what if you disappear? What if you go somewhere I can't find you?"

"I won't," he promises. "You said it yourself—I'm hard to get rid of."

Rey can't see it, but she _knows_ he's smirking. "All right, fine."

She takes a deep breath, her hand trembling as she reaches for her saber. She's blinded by tears, and the pounding of her heart is all she can hear.

"Ben—"

"No," he interrupts. "No more goodbyes between us. We've had enough of those for a lifetime."

She gulps back the sob that threatens to burst from her chest and ignites her yellow blade. "Stand back."

He does, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath. Then, gripping her hilt with both hands, she plunges it into the wall. The ice cracks and begins to melt around the heat of the blade, smoke curling up from the sizzling plasma and stinging her eyes. Rey twists it left and right, burning through the frozen heart of the mirror-wall until she senses that it is ready to fall.

Gritting her teeth, she pulls her saber free, and the barrier shatters. The gray empty world vanishes, and she staggers back as obsidian chunks crumble amidst a cloud of dust and steam. Rey deactivates her lightsaber and hooks it back onto her belt, breathing hard and straining to see through the shroud of darkness.

"Be with me," she prays, her voice scarcely a whisper. "Be with me."

"Always," he answers as he emerges from death's cold prison.

Tears spill from her eyes, and she's laughing and crying all at once when she runs and throws herself into his waiting arms. As he lifts her off the ground and spins her around, she buries her face in his neck and her fingers in his thick black hair, clinging to him so tightly that no one can take him from her ever again. When he sets her down, Rey immediately starts peppering his face with kisses. They're both grinning from ear to ear and shamelessly weeping, and she just can't _believe_ he's here.

"By the _Force_, don't let this be a dream…" she breathes as she brushes her thumbs over the dimples in his cheeks.

"I'm here," he assures her, taking her hands in his own and gently caressing them.

Her eyes frantically search every inch of his face, committing every detail to memory. The cuts, the bruises, the blood—they're all gone—and he is so beautiful. She watches as he softly presses his lips to her knuckles, admiring the way his dark, feathery locks fall across his brow and how his large, strong hands cradle hers so carefully.

"I love you," Rey blurts suddenly with a jolt of terror. "I didn't get to say it before, but I do."

He lowers her hands and meets her gaze. He looks completely and utterly dumbfounded, and her insides clench with the fear that she has made a mistake, that she has said too much too quickly or—

"You do?" he echoes in quiet wonder, as if he must have heard her incorrectly. As if he can't believe that he is worthy of such a confession.

Rey swallows and nods. "I do. With all my heart."

His eyes fill with tears again, and as they run wet tracks down his cheeks, she takes her hands from his and wipes them away. Ben wraps his arm around her waist, pulls her closer, and leans down. Resting his other hand against the side of her neck, he presses his forehead to hers, and she closes her eyes. Their breaths mingle, their chests rising and falling in perfect unison.

"And I've loved you," he says, "since the day I met you. My life without you—it wasn't living at all."

"I'm not nothing?" she teases with a spark of fond challenge in her eyes as her fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck and she tilts her face up toward his.

"No. You're everything."

And as if to prove it, he kisses her then, deeply and passionately. They are no longer timid or uncertain, and what they lack in experience, they make up for in vigor. She savors the way his presence surrounds her completely and makes her feel safer than she ever has before. The way his hand on her back holds her firm and steady. The way his thumb slides over her cheek and down the side of her neck.

"Let's go to the _Falcon_," she says breathlessly as he leaves a trail of kisses along the column of her throat.

"Did you come here alone?" Ben mumbles distractedly.

"Yeah…well, except for BB-8."

"And where are we, exactly?"

"Ahch-To."

"Hm," he muses, drawing back just enough to look into her eyes again. "Our own island, huh?"

He gives her a roguish grin, and she reciprocates it. Maybe that's not such a bad idea. Maybe they can stay here, just the two of them, for a little while. They deserve it, she thinks, after all they've been through.

Their bond had been pushed to its limits and had tested them in every way imaginable, and not even death itself had succeeded in separating them. Because there is no death—not really. There is only the Force. And they? They are not two souls, but one. The wound in her spirit has been healed, and even though she cannot see beneath the sleeve of Ben's shirt, she knows that her scar is gone.

Neither of them will ever be alone again. And their love? Their love is everlasting.


End file.
